


Night watch

by Lady_Arkena



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bottom Thorin, M/M, Top Dwalin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 05:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Arkena/pseuds/Lady_Arkena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My Happy-New-Year-smut for all Dworin-lovers ^^</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night watch

**Author's Note:**

> âzyungâl = lover  
> sanazaghâl = perfect warrior  
> kurdu = heart  
> pundurith = kitten

**Night watch**

“What do you think you are doing?” Thorin watched his friend with narrowed eyes when Dwalin entered his chambers and began to undress.

“Balin told me you have nightmares. You're weary and can't concentrate. I came here to help. You always sleep better when somebody lies close beside you,” the warrior answered calmly while he took off his shoes.

The king cursed under his breath and coolly replied, “I neither asked for your help nor want it. Don't take liberties where none were given. You better go now.”

“I see,” the other dwarf murmured after a few awkward moments. He slowly removed his heavy ear clip. It had been a present (and a silent promise) from his friend almost one hundred years ago. But apparently he had changed his mind after they had reclaimed Erebor.

“I'm sorry I misinterpreted your gift, Your Highness,” Dwalin said, blankly staring at the runes, before he put it down on the table. “It won't happen again.” He bowed stiffly, garnered his things and went to the door.

“Please, you have to understand,” Thorin whispered brokenly. His arrogance and anger melted like snow in spring. “I didn't mean … I never … it's not you,” he finished lamely.

“Then explain. I'm not as smart as you or Balin, but I'm not stupid either. I never approached you in our exile. I knew you wouldn't allow it, although I never understood why. But I respected your wish and only took whatever you were willing to give me. I waited a damn century for you. But now we are back in Erebor, we are finally home for nearly a year and you avoid me nonetheless,” the warrior demanded.

“Why?” he asked again and sighed in frustration when his friend didn't answer. “Maybe it is better if I go back to Ered Luin. Your sister surely needs a helping hand with the last caravans and ...”

The other dwarf frantically shook his head and lunged forward into his friends arm, desperately clutching at his tunic. Finally he admitted quietly, “You could have died because of my madness … you and all the others. I risked your life for a shiny stone. I don't deserve you, but I can't stop loving you either … I know I'm selfish, but please, don't go.”

Dwalin slowly bent forward, brushing his lips against his king's ear. “You don't have to deserve me, you stubborn idiot. I gave you my love long ago and you will always have it, no matter what. Let me love you, my king.”

A strangled sound escaped Thorin's throat, while his friend placed tender, little kisses over his neck, murmuring sweet nothings. He closed his eyes and cried softly, “Please, it's wrong. I can't …”

“How can this be wrong?” the warrior replied and carefully loosened the lace of his king's tunic. “You suffered enough from your own damn stubbornness, âzyungâl ...” he continued while he exposed more and more hairy skin, opening the neckline until the fabric slipped over broad shoulders.

“... and so did I,” Dwalin finished, sliding the cloth down and stared with hungry eyes at the bare upper body. His fingers followed his gaze, tracing scars and tattoos. Then he lowered his mouth to his king's shoulder, licking and nibbling a wet path to his collarbone.

“I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

When he heard Thorin's panted words, he stopped his ministrations. “I know. Otherwise I wouldn't be here with you.” He brushed a few kisses over trembling lips, before he claimed his friend's mouth properly. His hands caressed tense muscles until they slowly relaxed and his king went pliant in his arms, finally surrendering.

The bald dwarf smiled triumphantly and manoeuvred them into the bedroom, not breaking their kiss. When Thorin lay blushing and panting on his furs, the warrior ordered gently, “Take off your clothes, âzyungâl.”

His lover hesitantly obeyed. Dwalin chuckled lowly at his king's unusually shy behaviour and searched for lubricant. He found a small jar of slippery salve on the night stand and frowned. “For what do you need this? Do you have some more? It's almost empty,” he asked curiously and opened the top drawer.

“No, don't open it,” Thorin shouted, but it was too late already. He blushed even more and watched mortified, when his friend examined his many salve pots and his (rather large) toys.

“You are such a naughty boy,” Dwalin grinned, but sobered immediately, when he noticed his lover's distress.

“I'm pathetic,” the dwarven king murmured ashamed and covered his naked body with a blanket.

“No you're not, âzyungâl.” the warrior soothed and tenderly embraced the other dawrf. “I find it hot. The mere thought that you use them … it's intoxicating. Please, tell me you think about me while you fuck yourself. How often do you use them?” he rumbled in a sinful timbre and smiled satisfied when his voice and words send shivers down his lover's spine.

“Of course I think about you … who else?” Thorin glared, before he gulped and looked away. “Two or three times a week,” he admitted quietly.

“What?!?” Dwalin chocked and gaped in disbelieve.

“Something is missing. It's not satisfying anymore.” was the sheepish reply.

“I see. You just concentrated on your genitals and arse, didn't you?”

The king nodded abashed. “I'm sorry I …”

“Don't!” the warrior growled and captured the other's mouth in a fierce kiss, making them both groan in pleasure. “I will devour you. You will beg for my hands, my mouth and my cock … and when I let you finally cum, you will be more than satisfied,” the bald dwarf promised lustfully and smirked when Thorin tore eagerly at his tunic. Together they hastily freed him of his obstructive clothes.

“Please, my sanazaghâl, show me … make me yours … you're my first and my last,” the king pleaded between sloppy kisses, rubbing himself wantonly against his lover.

Dwalin grunted possessively, before his mouth wandered over his friend's sensitive neck. “Slow down, kurdu,” he soothed, when he felt Thorin's fervent caresses. “We have time. I don't leave you. I will spend every night with you, if you wish it. That's it, âzyungâl,” the warrior smiled, when his friend calmed down and brought their foreheads together. “And now I show you, what you were missing. Just close your eyes and trust me.”

The king nodded shyly and obeyed, sighing in pleasure as soon as Dwalin's mouth returned to his neck. In the meantime his hands drew small lazy circles on the bald dwarf's broad back. The gentleness was strange. He had overheard men or his own people in taverns and around camp fires and they had always described sex as something filthy and rough.

But the warrior took his time to caress even the slightest patch of skin. Every scar and tattoo were thoroughly explored with fingers and lips. Whenever he found a particularly sensitive spot, he licked and kissed it until Thorin whimpered and mewled for more.

Dwalin watched amused as his king arched his back and presented his nipples, already hard and red from his mouth. “Now what?” he asked sweetly. “You have tell me what you want, little kitten.”

“More … what you … what you have just done,” his lover panted and tried to push the bald head down.

“You have to be more specific. I've done many things,” the other dwarf said innocently and chuckled, when Thorin blushed and lowly mumbled to himself.

“Louder, pundurith,” he demanded and grinned at his embarrassed lover, who finally stammered, “Suck … suck at my … my nubs.”

“Your wish is my command, my king,” the warrior teased and lowered his mouth to one rosy nipple, while he circled the other with his fingertip. He growled approvingly when Thorin babbled more pleas (“Lick them harder … oh Mahal, that's good.” or “Please, flutter mmhhhh … flutter your tongue again.” or “Pinch them … aahhh … please, more gentle … yes, yes like that.”) and he met immediately every of his wishes.

Soon the king understood their play. At first Dwalin would caress a part of his body, showing him new highs of passion and drove him crazy with lust, before he waited for his lover's desperate requests for more. Then the warrior would do whatever he wanted as long as he asked for it as detailed as possible.

The only exceptions were his cock and his hole. It didn't matter how often he begged for some friction or a finger up his arse. Dwalin just shook his head (“Your groin isn't the only sensible area of your body, my sweet pundurith.”) and waited patiently for another wish.

Thorin had to admit that his friend was right. He never thought that the hollows of his knees, his spine or his ankles could be so sensitive. His whole body tingled with lustful sensation. But his dick was leaking and painfully hard, while his empty hole twitched and needed to be filled.

Finally he openly wept and hoarsely begged for mercy, “Please, you made … your point … I need … pleeeaaaaase, Dwalin …”

The warrior tenderly kissed tear-streaked cheeks and murmured, “You're such a good boy, âzyungâl. You really deserve a reward … your back or your front?”

“What?!? Please, anything ...” the king whined, but his lover calmly repeated his question.

“My back! Fill me, I'm begging you,” he cried and moaned shamelessly, when the bald dwarf arranged him with his back on strong thighs and his legs widely spread. His loose hole twitched under Dwalin's intense gaze.

“Do you want my fingers or my tongue, pundurith?” the warrior asked and nuzzled his friend's thighs lovingly.

Thorin stared with wide eyes and whimpered, “Tongue? What do you … oooohhh Mahal!!!”

He could just screamed when he felt his lover's hot mouth on his entrance. An agile tongue fluttered over his ring of muscles, tickling and teasing him mercilessly. His whole body got rigid. His cock was rock-hard and slapped with every movement against his stomach, smearing up his precum until his hair and skin glistened. He hadn't been so aroused a long time ago and the warrior hadn't even touched his genitals.

He didn't know whether he wanted these torturous caresses to continue or not. In the end he only lay helplessly on his furs, panting and mewling like a cat in heat, while Dwalin tongue-fucked him. Every coherent thought vanished from his head, when his lover used his slippery fingers to spread his arse even wider, preparing him for his own throbbing erection.

Finally his lover lifted him into his lap and slowly entered him. Thorin moaned and panted in pleasure and sloppily kissed the bald dwarf. He desperately clutched his friend's broad shoulders for support.

“Move, pundurith. Fuck yourself,” Dwalin ordered and his voice was strained for the first time since their love-making had started.

The king mewled and obeyed eagerly. He bounced shamelessly up and down, impaling himself over and over again on his lover's thick erection. Suddenly the warrior's dick brushed against his prostate and new wave of pleasure shot through Thorin, making him scream wantonly.

He sped up his pace and solely concentrated on hitting his sweet spot again. He didn't know how long their coupling lasted. It could have been minutes or hours, but when he finally came he just whimpered his lover's name and marked them both with his seed, before Dwalin's cum flooded his arse.

Thorin's whole body went limp and he barely noticed that the warrior cleaned him with a wet towel, before he embraced him and covered them with a blanket. The king snuggled deeper into his friend's arms, smiling happily and satisfied.

“Sleep, âzyungâl. I'm here,” Dwalin whispered and watched his sleeping king with gentle eyes.


End file.
